That's Why
by Yuki Scorpio
Summary: [COMPLETE][Schwarz] A little Schwarz thing I wrote a while ago to beat exam stress Xx It's nothing serious. Just small portraits of each Schwarz member.
1. Farfarello

[That's Why]

Farfarello

Fresh. Bright. Warm.

Blood.

I dip my finger into it. My victim's lips were parted, but alas, his final scream had been silent. I had sank my dagger deep into the throat, piercing the windpipe. Better luck next time, my dear.

Rather funny. I study the redness on my finger, sniffing it. Behold, this raw, coppery liquid is their fountain of life.

'It's yours too, Farfie.'

Nonsense.

Schuldich, a graceful figure cladded in black, strolls towards me with cat-like elegance. This is the man who once patiently attempted in explaining the concept of pain to me, knowing that it is of no importance to me. He often does these things anyway, to kill time.

I want no lectures from him this time.

'Fine, have it your way. If you want to think yourself invincible, so be it.' Impossibly long legs carry the German away, the sunset-coloured hair whirling as he spins on his heels. 'If you're happier that way.'

Sweet. But your guidance I need not. I need nobody.

They call me insane.

How typical of human foolishness. I live in true tranquillity they will never know or even begin to comprehend. How can anyone define my being using their frivolous standards? Why must one be like all else to be accepted? Why the need of acceptance?

I, unlike all His Children, do not need such things.

'Farfarello, hurry up.'

I sit beside young Nagi as Crawford drives off, Schuldich sitting in the front, as usual. The front seat of Crawford's car is his territory. Nagi, weary from the overuse of telekinesis, finally falls into slumber, leaning against me for comfort.

Strange. How very strange someone can seek comfort in my company. After ending Ruth's life, Nagi told me the tale of Dionysus. 'Agave', he called me. The woman who torn her son apart, recognising him only as a beast. A young man, sane by the standard of men, sleeps without fear, by my side. I'm his Agave.

Nagi. Young, pure, yet untamed. Way too slender, seemingly frail, yet unbelievably strong. How you silently scream and cry, struggle within yourself, like dying men. You intrigue me, child. Every time I pause to look, you have grown, experienced, learned. Every time I pause to look, you scream louder, in deeper desperation, further hopelessness. Lo, you are searching for something, am I correct? You need it for survival. Unlike Schuldich, you have never found what your are looking for. You never know what you are looking for.

'I wonder what he dreams about.'

Undoubtedly reaching into Nagi's mind, the lucky man Schuldich. I envy you at times, your clear path, sure destiny. A knight to your dark prince; a disciple to your dark lord. You, who have all you want, all you need. Ah, how you love the taste of living, how you enjoy it! Unlike any one of us, you are a contented man. Drunk in this blissfulness, you never want to wake again.

'Do you ever dream, Farfie?'

What an... interesting question, I must say. 'Do I?'

A frown. 'I'm asking you.'

What is 'to dream'? The borderline between illusion and reality has always been so fine the two often merges, spinning and twisting together into an inseparable web like candyfloss. A mere puff of sweet nothingness. Any attempts in trying to define dreams and reality are feeble.

'I live in my dream.'

How melodically you laugh, Schuldich. 'I believe you do. That's what I like about you.'

But then again, there is almost nothing you do not like, redhead.

'Doesn't Nags look angelic when he sleeps.' He sighs, reaching back to brush Nagi's hair from his face. The boy does not stir. 'He's dreaming about his earlier years.'

'Sit properly. I can't reach the gearbox.' A voice, cold but not emotionless. Brad Crawford keeps his eyes on the road, thin lips pressed into a frown.

'Yes, commander.' With that, Schuldich snaps back into position, and grins at our leader's reaction to the word 'commander'.

Without purpose, I slide a hand around Crawford's neck as he drives. Nagi falls, his head resting on my lap now. He whispers something unintelligible but does not wake.

Crawford - the reluctant leader. Sometimes I see you merely as an older version of Nagi. Evil, oh yes, you are so very evil, yet... you are... I often lack words to describe you, mister. Pity. You are extremely interesting but I cannot phrase it. Perhaps this is what makes you interesting. You despise responsibility. You resent being in a group. But you are our leader. Poetic injustice, you may say, but I see that you enjoy it now, without knowing it yourself.

Leader. In that position I see you not, but that is the hierarchy. Another useless human system we do not confine ourselves to but pretend to accept. You see yourself as no more than our caretaker: sweet, yet again.

Sweeter than living blood, you all are.

That's why I like Schwarz.

[end]


	2. Schuldich

[That's Why]

Schuldich

I avoid the blood on the tiled floor as I step in. Brad doesn't like blood in his car.

I'm supposed to collect Farfarello because he must be enjoying himself too much again and forgot the time. How typical. I stand in the doorway and watch as he immerses a finger into the increasingly large puddle of fresh blood. What is he thinking right now?

I close my eyes and tune myself to his wavelength.

Oh no, you're not all powerful. You must know it too - after all, you have lost an eye. You know you need your blood to live, but you're too good at living in your little dreams. 'If you're happier that way.'

Gently I release his mind. I could have delved deeper, but there is no point anyway, so why bother. As he follows me out I hook a finger to his leather collar, half dragging him along. If I don't do that, you know, he might just wander away again. Farfarello is well, not hard to control if you know the trick, but if you don't, you'll find yourself running in circles chasing after him.

'Farfarello, hurry up.'

Brad sounds annoyed but really, he isn't. All he wants is for all of us to get home and have some rest, but you can't expect him to voice these things out loud. He just isn't that kind of person. Resting my elbow at the door and my chin on an open palm, I look out at the fast moving scenery as I tap myself into his thoughts.

I reach a barrier and stay there. After a while, Brad makes a conscious decision to let me in.

Thank you.

_Nagi worn himself out again. Do you think there's something bothering him?_

I shake my head, knowing that Brad is watching me out of the corners of his eyes.

_I don't want him to affect our performance in the next assignment._

Oh now, Brad, don't say that, you know you just care. Unable to help myself, I let out a chuckle. He knows me. He knows what I'm thinking. And he doesn't try to justify himself.

_Check him out for me, Schuldich._

Okay okay. If I'm not tired as I am now, I'd probably force you to say 'please' before helping you out, but anyway. I turn around. Look, Nagi is sleeping on Farfarello's shoulder! How adorable! If only I have a camera with me!

'I wonder what he dreams about.'

I am sucked into the swirl of Nagi's dream. Flashes of his early years in Schwarz, his occasional confusions over himself as a being, his basic respect for each one of us... that's about all there is. Nothing to worry about at all. Nagi is normal. It is the one he's leaning on that I want to know about.

'Do you ever dream, Farfie?

'Do I?'

'I'm asking you.' Duh.

'I live in my dream.'

Of course you do, but that's not what I just asked. Never mind, one cannot expect too much from Farfarello. He lives in his own world.

But ah, what was I doing? Oh yeah, seeing if Nagi is okay. Of course he is. 'He's dreaming about his earlier years.'

That's the answer Brad needed. He tells me to sit down now and relax for the rest of the way home. Yes, doing that much mind reading at a time can strain me a little, but I don't really mind. Must be the maschoist in me. Brad is always very careful and watching over me so that I don't hurt myself. It sometimes makes me want to glomp him and tell him how lovely he really is.

But hey, that is something I only do to Farfarello. One cannot really do the same thing to Brad Crawford.

You see, Farfarello is simple, in a sense, as long as you understand the kind of realm he lives in. If you know the right buttons to press, you'll just see how cool he is. You might say that is the case for everyone, but you are so wrong. Brad Crawford has no buttons for pressing. He is just him and that's all he is. Believe me.

Nagi, on the other hand, is a person with many layers within himself. There're many _Nagi_s that make up this Nagi sleeping at the back. The _Nagi_ that wishes to belong, the _Nagi_ that wants to love, the _Nagi_ that desires destruction... _Nagi_s that even Nagi doesn't know about or refuses to acknowledge.

Brad is a bit like Nagi, I agree with Farfarello on this. But Brad is in touch of every side of himself. He juggles them around as it pleases him, but always put the cool-calm-collected, aka the Crawford everyone knows, on the surface. I much prefer Brad, the real person underneath, but if he doesn't pretend to be so cool, then he gets boring, I guess.

What? Oh me?

I'm just me. What can I say? There's only one thing I ever want to do and I'm doing it right now and I'm a happy man. A mind reader never reads his own mind or think about himself, my love. I'm only interested in the others. What about me? Schwarz will take care of me, there's never anything I need to worry about, seriously.

That's why, as you already know, I like Schwarz.

[end]


	3. Crawford

[That's Why]

Crawford

I lie back, take off my glasses and close my eyes as Schuldich gets out the car to find Farfarello.

Behind me, Nagi seems to be equally tired, if not even more so. The young man is getting exhausted more frequently than I'd like to see recently. Maybe there are things on his mind, but he doesn't tell me many things. My team often talks to Schuldich instead of directly to me. The German will then let me know anything he thinks I should.

If you ask do I wish things work differently, I cannot tell you. I won't be able to understand them the way Schuldich does, aided by his psychic ability, but... I'd like to try. I don't like my role, but since I'm given it, I want to excel in every aspect of it.

Schuldich is pretty much handling all the more delicate sides of Schwarz, and I let him.

Sometimes I think he may make a better leader than I do.

This thought will make him laugh, I'm sure. He has no sense of competition, nor the want to achieve anything. I do. The first thing I want is to change the type of existence I have now, to no longer be anyone's dog, even though in the mind none of us have been ever since Schwarz came together. I want to be totally free, both body and soul, from SS. Right now I'm not powerful enough, but in the future, I will. I will have control over my life.

At this precise moment, though, all I want is to get home. 'Farfarello, hurry up.'

Nagi finally falls asleep at the back, and I don't blame him for showing this kind of weakness. He is still a child. He will frown if he knows I see him this way, but he seriously is still young. He is so set on being in Schwarz, yet he needs the comfort that I, the leader, cannot offer. In the simple gesture of leaning against Farfarello in his sleep, I see his vulnerability that he often tries to hide. I wish he will eventually face it - I don't want him to become like me.

I feel a familiar presence, like a mental knock at the wall of my mind. Schuldich obviously is not as worn out as Nagi or myself. I ask him about Nagi and hear him chuckle, almost hearing that unvoiced statement he is making - that I just care about Nagi, not the assignments.

Whatever.

The German is listening to Nagi's dreams now, the flow of energy in the car is so strong it is almost visible to me. Schuldich always does what I say and he does it thoroughly. I should have told him how much of Nagi I wanted to know, right now he might just be tiring himself out just for my simple request.

The source of power gradually closes down. Schuldich has taken himself off the boy's mind now. 'Do you ever dream, Farfie?'

'Do I?'

I don't think that is an intelligent question to ask Farfarello. He probably doesn't even know what dreams are - he cannot tell dream from reality. Although in both, he seeks his revenge on God. Farfarello is a man with a clearly defined aim. Unlike me, who has to wait for the chance to come, he is all set and ready to go on his path. In fact he already is on it and enjoying himself.

I am jealous of him?

Whatever.

'Doesn't Nags look angelic when he sleeps.' Schuldich sighs, 'He's dreaming about his earlier years.'

Good. All is right with everyone. 'Sit properly. I can't reach the gearbox.'

'Yes commander.'

I flash him a look with narrowed eyes behind my glasses. The German grins back uncaringly, putting his seatbelt back on. This man is crazy, sometimes even more so than Farfarello, I think. He is wild under his skin, an animal too much for me even try and control. He knows me better than I'd like to, to this I admit. I don't know why, I don't know how, because I am always aware whenever he reads me. Somehow he just knows.

A cold hand finds its way around my neck. I glance at the reflection of Farfarello on the mirror, who is just studying Nagi's sleeping face. One day I will get used to this kind of sudden gesture, but for now it still startles me.

'He means it well, Crawford.' Schuldich smiles at my reaction. 'But he's just a bit random.'

That I know. 'Doesn't it give you the creeps?'

'Not when I always know his intention.'

'Advantage of being psychic.' I drive down the final stretch of road, then park the car.

Schuldich carries Nagi in his arms now as we wait for the elevator. '... Not that I love being one.' He whispers, cradling the Japanese boy carefully and not wanting to wake him.

I contain my shock at that confession. I should have known, I really should have. 'But you still use it.'

'Because you want me to.' He looks up at the flashing numbers, smiling at no one. 'You should know this by now.'

Whatever.

'Don't look as if you don't care, Crawford. You like this.'

'No, I don't.'

'You like what leadership gives you.'

Perhaps I do.

I am a leader, and they are my team.

I instruct them and they obey willingly. I control, they want to be controlled, to be directed. They need me... and they offer me what I need.

That's why, I guess, I like Schwarz.

[end]


	4. Nagi

[That's Why]

Nagi

At the front, Crawford is looking so tired I wonder if he can still drive. I will help him out if I can, but with my brain swimming in my head, perhaps not.

Farfarello is made to scrub his shoes clean of blood on the gravel by Schuldich before he gets in the car, and as soon as they get in, I let the lasts of my strength slip away. They can keep an eye on Crawford now. We all know that man is always pretending. Without needing to ask, I know that facade of concentration and no-I'm-not-tired-ness will soon crumble.

The shoulder feels a bit angular against my head. Farfarello might be thinner than I imagine. Agave, the woman of the Greek tragedy I so love, is probably just as frail as he appears to be. Yet, in her Dionysian frenzy, she had ripped apart her own son and held the bloodied head up in twisted victory.

Farfarello, similarly, is driven by an urge, but one that he willingly let himself be taken over by. When I asked, he told me about Ruth. He is nowhere near insane. I want to have his courage, the courage to put an end to something that has pained me for so, so long, and then pursue my destiny. I want to be able to be driven by desire yet control that desire, and to be able to remove every obstacle that stands in my path without remorse.

My Agave is my source of encouragement and hope. He does not acknowledge pain, he will never go down.

Schuldich's random humming and tapping against window become distant as darkness and the scent of blood on Farfarello's clothes envelop me in a light embrace...

There he was again, humming a tune and tapping against glass. We were moving into our new flat, and waiting for the boxes to be delivered. The large, double-glazed glass doors offered a good view of the city from this 37th floor. When Schuldich finally pulled them open and go on the balcony, I followed suit.

I must say, 37 floors were high. When I looked down, I could just manage to see minute, lit up dots of cars lining up on the roads.

'You'll get used to it, Nags.' Schuldich said.

'You've been waiting for this day for ages, haven't you? Moving in together and all.'

'Don't you like this?'

'I don't mind at all. Whether I like it or not... I'll tell you after settling in.' I wasn't about to make conclusions when the furniture wasn't even delivered yet. 'But you've wanted to live with Crawford, right?'

I thought I might have got the wrong idea, but I might as well ask. It wouldn't hurt.

Schuldich turned his face to me and stared, reading what I mean. After a moment, he crouched forward so that his upper body leaned out of the balcony, and chuckled. 'It's not quite the same thing.'

'What is it, then?'

This simple question proved to be harder to answer than I imagined. Schuldich rolled his eyes in thought, then turns around to lean his back on the low wall. 'I don't really know.' He finally said, pushing himself up and walking back into the apartment. 'I'll come back to this one in a few months.'

More than a few months have passed since then. I wonder if he knows what it all is, by now. Apparently mind readers hear so much about other minds that they hardly ever think about themselves, so perhaps not. It's difficult to fully understand Schuldich, mainly because he doesn't know himself all that well, either. But at least he has proven himself to be a good friend and a good co-worker, because he never probes too deep, not even with his ability. Schuldich isn't like an open book, but at least one can see how he is feeling most of the time, unlike Crawford.

Crawford was sitting on the only available furniture, the couch, and reading a newspaper. Schuldich pulled the final page out of our leader's hands and began filling in the crosswords, giving a smile as his reply to Crawford's annoyed glare. The typical Schuldich thing to do.

I almost never know what Crawford is thinking, but I guess he is like a big brother to the group. This feeling must have came from the way he debriefs us at least twice for each assignment, and the way he instructs us to do things. He doesn't like getting into trouble with the SS but more importantly, he doesn't like seeing us fail - not because it decredits him, it is just a natural big brother thing to want us to succeed.

At least this is how I think of him.

He is a bit too pushy most of the time, a bit paranoid, and sometimes I think he passes on his panic attacks to me. Say, we didn't have to move into this apartment on this date, but because he said and demanded so, it made me feel like the date was the deadline and if I didn't meet it, the world would blow into pieces. I think it's all like the old Japanese and Chinese who would pick their date to do things according to their religious books, but Crawford does it according to his visions. When all of a sudden he wants a certain thing to be done without giving the reason, I feel as though if I don't meet his demand, my life will be at stake.

I once wanted to try and tell Crawford to explain himself better, but before I even said anything, Schuldich stopped me. 'He tells us only what we need to know for our good.'

And I believe him. I don't know how much of the future Crawford sees or how much of our minds Schuldich can read, but if they keep most of it to themselves, there must be a reason.

Farfarello didn't even mutter a reply when I told him these things. He didn't care, as long as the team stayed the way it was and he got to do what he wanted to do. That's all that matters to him, I guess.

Suddenly, I feel myself being lifted. 'Man... still sleeping...'

For once, just this once, I'm not going to wake up just yet. As strong arms cradle me against a broad chest, I relax further, then finding myself back in the apartment. They're moving in the furniture now, and Schuldich only laughed when the workmen had to take the bed apart so that it would fit through the doorframe... Farfarello offered to help but Crawford told him to sit there and not move... Then both of them muttered curses in English...

With these people, I feel like I have a family. A weird one, but a family none-the-less.

That's why, I gradually realised, I like Schwarz.

[end]


End file.
